The Silent Plea for Help
by Tsarchov
Summary: After Tsuna's death, there was this emptiness left in them. Is there a way for them to fill it?


**Warnings:** yaoi – don't like, don't read

**Disclaimer:** Katekyo Hitman Reborn and its characters belong to Amano Akira.

**Authors note: **because English is not my mother language, I apologize for any mistakes I will make…

**- The Silent Plea for Help –**

It was past midnight when someone rung the doorbell to Yamamoto Takeshis place. Of course he wasn't sleeping – there was no way any of them would tonight, as this was the day that their beloved boss, the kind Tsuna, was shot and just few hours before died in the hospital.

He was fresh out from the shower, with just a lose pants on, revealing his beautifully build upper body. His short dark hair was still a little wet. He tried hard to ignore the bell, as he didn't wanted to see anyone in this moment, intending to drown his sorrow in the liquor he prepared before – it was one he used to drink with the young boss. He poured the dark liquor in the glass.

Bringing the full glass to his lips, stopping in midair as the doorbell rung anew, this time the noise wasn't stopping. Trying hard to surpass the building anger against the intruder, he put the glass down, making his way to the door – anger in his eyes. Opening them, there stood the last person he thought would be there – the storm guardian, Gokudera Hayato. He looked to be in visible worst state then he felt.

"What are you doing here?" his voice was deep and quiet and he was surprised that it wasn't trembling. Gokudera let go of the doorbell, straightening himself, looking the taller man in the eyes.

"Won't you let me in?" he would let himself in without questioning, if Yamamoto wouldn't stand in the doorway, blocking his way.

"Shouldn't you be somewhere else?" asked the Japanese man instead. The Italian just continued to look at him, not saying anything in return. Sighing, Yamamoto pushed the door that he was still holding with one hand open. "Come in then," knowing Gokudera for so many years, Yamamoto knew that he won't just turn around and walk away if he was already here. Especially not today.

It was these words that Gokudera was waiting for. Without any more words or eye contact between them, he passed Yamamoto, slipped of his shoes and walked to the middle of the room that was a kitchen and a living room at the same time. He waited for Yamamoto to close the door and when he heard his bare foots moving again, he spoke again.

"A little while back you said to me that you love me."

Yamamoto stayed standing where he was, surprised by those sudden words. Of course it was true, but he didn't think it possible that the Italian man would ever bring it up, judging by his reaction the moment he told him.

"Yes, I know. And I still love you," the answer was honest, without any kind of hesitation in it. He didn't see well Gokuderas face, as only the light about the kitchen unit was on. After a little while, when no one said anything, Yamamoto took the first step towards Gokudera, but the other started to move in the same time, away from the nearing Yamamoto, straight where he knew the bedroom was. He left the jacket he was wearing to slide down his shoulders to the floor.

"Gokudera," Yamamoto called his name, a little shocked by his action. If he heard him, he didn't let it show, as he continued further into the room. Opening the door, he also left the necktie slid to the ground. Yamamoto urged to his bedroom, partly curious and partly worrying about his friend – his love – fully ignoring the jacket and the necktie lying on the ground.

The light was still off, but he could make out a dark silhouette sitting on the edge of his bed. His hand automatically reached for the switch, switching on just the dimmed light over his beds head side, because a stronger light won't be good for his eyes that would need some time to adapt. And he wanted to see the other man as soon as possible.

It was a good choice, as the view was breathtaking. Gokudera was sitting on the edge of the bed, his shirt half open, partly revealing his white chest. He was looking at him with those eyes that he so loved, a strange light in them that he haven't seen before. He was really breathtaking in that partly lighted room, that it took him a lot of strange not to just take him right then and there. He swallowed.

In that moment Gokudera stood up, not breaking their eye contact, and because it didn't seem like Yamamoto would move any second, he moved to him, putting his hands seductively on his shoulders. He then smiled gently, his right hand slowly traveling behind his head, playing with his short hair.

"Dera," Yamamotos attempt to say something was cut when Gokudera placed his lips over Yamamotos, sealing that way the words trying to come out. The kiss was a short one as Yamamoto pushed the Italian man away – even if it was a one of a lifetime chance for him to taste those sweet lips he longed for so long.

"You're drunk," he was holding him by his shoulders, on arm length. It was oh so hard to part from those lips, and even now he tried to look Gokudera straight in the eyes, but his look sometimes traveled down to those seductive cherry lips.

"Am not," was the short reply, and if Yamamoto wasn't stronger than him, he would be kissing him again. It was hard for Yamamoto to resist the urges – his body was telling him to take this opportunity, his mind was screaming in protect. He knew that if he would listen to Gokudera now, he would regret it later – and it could also be the end of their friendship.

"Don't lie to me, Dera."

"Am not," there was again this pleading in his voice, even in his eyes.

"I know you best, and I know you can fake it. And your breath reeks of alcohol."

"Please, Yamamoto," Gokudera leaned forward, putting his forehead on Yamamotos shoulder, and he let him.

"Please, I need you," his voice was quiet, but the Japanese man heard him clearly.

"You know that I won't be able to stop," there was no reply from Gokudera – not in the words to be exact. He started to kiss his neck, making his way slowly to his lips. Then their lips meet again, this time in more passionate way.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait…" Yamamoto pushed him away – again – when he started to feel Gokuderas tongue in his mouth. The Italian moaned in protest as their lips parted.

"Just a second," Yamamoto passed him and in an instant was beside his bed, opening his nightstand, taking something out. When he turned around, he needed all the self control he could gather to not just jump him. Even if he was drunk, he must have known how delicious he looked to him.

Gokudera stood before him already naked, leaving Yamamoto wondering how fast he was. His clothes were around him on the floor, leaving him with just his underwear on. Every minute it was harder and harder for him to control himself with the tempting Italian before him. Yamamoto swallowed hard, when Gokudera licked his lips, tempting him with every move he made by nearing him.

Yamamotos hand in the Italians hair, playing with it, stroking him gently and taking his time. His other hand traveled around his chest, then his neck, his face that he so knew and finally to his lips. Gokudera opened his mouth, taking in his two fingers, licking them, tempting him more – never breaking eye contact with those dark eyes.

Yamamoto couldn't take it anymore. He took those lips once more, this time not breaking the contact after few seconds, savoring his taste. This time it was Gokudera who tried to break the kiss, but Yamamoto won't let him, holding his head in place with his hand until he was sure he swallowed. Then he let the Italian go.

"What was that?" Gokudera looked at him a little bit shocked. "What have you made me swallow?"

"Don't worry. It was just a drug to make you feel good," he leaned closer, whispering in his ear. "I don't want to hurt you," he then licked the small ear, pleased by the moan that escaped Gokuderas lips. He had a little pink color in his face when Yamamoto pulled away to lock at him. Cute – that was the only word that his mind came up to describe him at the moment.

"Dera," Yamamoto leaned closer again, kissing his neck slowly, his hands traveling thru his back. Slowly turning them around, he gently pushed them on the bed, not breaking the contact, kissing passionately and being happy that Gokudera was kissing him back in that same passionate way.

He moved lower, to his neck, kissing that sweet spot of his that he just found out about, making Gokudera moan for him. His one hand found one small pink nipple, and another moan escaped the Italians lips. Then he heard his breath to slow, and no more moans were coming from him. He kissed the neck one last time and then he gave one kiss on the shoulder, sitting up. Looking at his sleeping face, Yamamoto sighed.

"The sleeping pill finally kicked in," he stroke Gokudera on his cheek, then leaned down a kissed him on the forehead.

"Please Hayato, just obediently sleep." Taking a deep breath, he stood up and made his way out of the room. When he turned off the light, Gokudera moved a little, which made him look his way.

"Tsuna," was the only word that leaved Gokuderas mouth with a single drop of tear. What was this sharp pain he was feeling? Of course he knew that the Italian had feelings for their boss since they were young, but hearing his name from his mouth right now was much painful than he thought it would.

Closing the door, he moved back to his glass with the alcohol he wanted to drink before Gokudera came. The ice already melted, but that didn't matter to him right now. He sat down, putting the empty glass on the table, filling it again with the dark liquor. He took it with the intention to drink it, to drown his sorrow in the alcohol, but in the last moment he put the glass down with a sigh.

"Shit," he putted his head in his hands and hoped his decision about the Italian in his bed was the correct one. Of course it was correct – Gokudera didn't know what he was doing. He took the glass and drank it in one sip.


End file.
